


Gray-Eyed Monsters

by CaramelDarling



Series: Monsters [2]
Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Jacob is awkward, M/M, POV First Person, the original character is alan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 13:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8625832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaramelDarling/pseuds/CaramelDarling
Summary: Months later, Jacob's back but things have changed. Ricky's gotten his life together and moved on... Or so he thought.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This turned out much, much longer than the first part. I tried to do a lot of things with his fic, but I'm not sure I succeeded. Anyway, hopefully Jacob's not too out of character or anything (I worry, you know?). Hope you enjoy~

Jacob came home months after he disappeared. It was like some sort of insane miracle. I thought for sure he was dead. I had no doubt in my mind that I would never see him again.

The first thing I did was try to visit him, but his parents were reluctant to let me in. “He’s been through a lot,” they said. “We just don’t want him to get overwhelmed, being back and everything. You understand?” And I knew they still didn’t like me, even though my hair was black now and I worked at Smart Aid and I was probably the only person who had come asking about Jacob outside his family.

“They didn’t let me in,” I told my mom and she was so angry she nearly cried.

“Who do they think they are? Oh! Those people are infuriating!” She went into the kitchen, pulled out some cookie mix my boss at Smart Aid let me take home, and angrily baked chocolate chip cookies. “I’m going over there with you this time and let’s see if they can refuse us with cookies!”

I pointed out that people didn’t usually make cookies for people they disliked.

“All people like them care about is appearances.”

So we went over there with cookies. Jacob’s mom opened the door and we smiled and raised our plate and my mom said, “Hi! We've come to see Jacob. I made him some cookies. I hope he’s feeling all right.”

True to Mom’s predictions, Mrs. Portman smiled back, though she was clearly surprised, and replied, “Oh, thank you so much! You didn’t have to… Come in. He’s in his room.”

And now here I am, standing in front of this boy I thought was dead, in the middle of a bedroom I thought I would never step inside of again.

Jacob has new scars all over the place, but that’s not the only thing different about him. There’s just something there - the way he moves or looks at me or smiles. It’s clear he’s changed. My throat constricts.

“Hey,” I say, holding the plate of cookies. My mom is downstairs, chatting up Jacob’s parents. I don’t think they’ve ever talked before this, despite my being friends with Jacob for as long as I was. I wonder if this collision of worlds will send us all off axis.

Jacob is sitting at his desk. There’s a small pile of letters next to his arm. I swallow down a rush of panic. There’s no way my letter is in that pile - his parents probably threw it away.

“Hey,” Jacob says, like he’s surprised to see me. Not unpleasantly, at least. “Your hair isn’t green anymore.”

“Uh, yeah. I had to dye it back for work,” I admit. It’s been a month since I got the job, but the loss of my green hair still stings a little. It was the only way they would give me the job.

“Work?”

“I took your job at Smart Aid.”

He huffs a short laugh. I smirk. Then suddenly remembering the cookies, I gesture at the plate in my hand and say, “Mom made you some cookies.”

He stands to take it. Seeing him move towards me sends a weird feeling down my spine. I just thought I would never see him so close again. It’s surreal. He sits on his bed, unwrapping the aluminum foil and grabbing a chocolate chip cookie from the pile. I’m staring and he catches me. Awkwardly, he gestures to the spot next to him. “Eat with me.”

I breathe, sit beside him, and grab a cookie, but my stomach is doing gymnastic flips and I can’t imagine eating. The silence stretches between us. I catch sight of a small scar near the collar of his t-shirt. What did he go through, exactly?

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jacob says in a rush. I raise my eyes to his face. He turns away. “You didn’t ask, but you’re staring at me.”

I stick the cookie in my mouth to avoid answering him. We’re quiet until I’ve run out of chewing time and then the pressure to talk gets too heavy. I say, “You were gone for months. People were saying you had snuffed it.” Some of my worry bleeds into my voice and I pray he doesn’t pick up on it.

“Almost did.”

I eat another cookie.

“It’s kinda hard not being able to explain to everyone who comes asking,” Jacob admits and I’m surprised. I try to think about the last serious conversation we had and the closest I can come up with is when I tried (and failed) to convince him he did need to see a therapist. The conversation that ended our sort-of friendship.

“But my parents know. And I’ve got friends…” A soft smile appears on his face and I _know_ it’s a girl. _I know_.

It’s fine. I’ve got Alan too. I’m over it. I’m over Jacob.

“A girl?” I ask because I just fucking hate myself, apparently.

Jacob blinks. “Well… I guess. We’re taking it slow right now.” But he’s still smiling and nothing about his face says _slow_.

I think about the letter I could have sent before he left.

“What about you, Ricky? It’s been awhile. Any new girlfriends?” I can tell he’s just being polite. A question for a question. Small talk.

“Boyfriend,” I say. Since I came out and started officially dating Alan, I’ve been correcting people left and right, but it’s harder with Jacob. I can sense his shock.

“What?”

“Boyfriend. I’m dating Alan Riley.”

Alan and Jacob never really knew each other, but they’ve always had somewhat of a mutual dislike for one another. Alan just doesn’t like “rich good kids” like him and he likes even less how long I spent pining. I’m not sure where Jacob’s dislike of him comes from. Maybe he can sense Alan’s coldness.

“Alan Riley?” Jacob says slowly. “Alan?” He sounds confused.

I flash him a smile I hope doesn’t come off as defeated as I feel. “Yeah.”

Something undefinable shifts in Jacob’s expression. “You like guys?”

“Yep. Surprised?”

His eyes fall and I think he’s looking me over. I try not to flush under his scrutiny. “I mean… yes.”

I pretend to check my phone for the time. “Oh, whoops. I’m meeting Alan soon. I’ve gotta go. You can return the plate whenever.” After I say it, I realize I’ve never invited Jacob over. I never wanted him to see what my house looked like compared to his.

Jacob realizes it too. “I’ll drop it off at your house after I wash it,” he says.

I nod and stand.

“Ricky,” Jacob says. I raise my eyebrows to show I’m listening. “I didn’t notice until now,” he begins. “But… I missed you.”

Oh, that’s so unfair. “Aww, Special Ed. You’re making me blush.” And he is. I look away. My mouth opens and the words “I missed you too” hang on my tongue. _I missed you too. I missed you so damn much_. I can’t say that to him. “Did you, uh, see my letter…”

Jacob tips his head to the side, confused. It’s a cute gesture, though he would hate being called cute. He’s an insecure guy. Well, he was. Maybe not so much anymore. “Letter?”

“Never mind. It’s not… It wasn’t important,” I say. “See you then.”

In the living room, my mom stands when she sees me coming down the stairs. Jacob’s parents breathe sighs of relief. “Let’s go,” I say.

“Did it go well?” Mom whispers, slipping her arm through mine.

I shrug, remember him say he missed me, and nod. “Yeah. Pretty good.”

Mom smiles and squeezes my arm.

***

Alan is driving me to work. I’m in the passenger seat, staring out the rolled down window, watching the Florida winter skies. The wind is cold, but I sort of like it, the way it stings my face, numbs my lips.

“Ricky, put the window up. It’s freezing,” Alan complains. Then, he presses the button on his side of the car and the window slowly, slowly goes up. I don’t turn to him, waiting for the wind to be sucked away. “What’s with you? You’re not listening to me at all,” he says.

“Sorry.” And I mean it. All I’ve been doing is thinking about Jacob.

The car stops at a red light. Alan leans against the wheel. My car, my poor car, broke down for good not long after Jacob disappeared. I guess I let people beat it too often. I’m saving up to buy another, but I truly loved my first car, no matter how smashed I let it get. It stings like my black hair stings. Changing my appearance, losing my piece of shit car - they’re expected and everyday things, really, but sometimes it almost seems like too much I’ve given up. Everyone tells you life gets better when you stop screwing up and screwing around, but they don’t tell you how much it feels like erasing yourself. Only the cookie cutter citizens make it out of here.

The light turns green. “Are you…” Alan begins and I sense trouble. He never hesitates when he speaks, unless it’s trouble. “Are you thinking about Jacob?”

“Alan.”

“If you still like him better than me, go ahead and dump me. Go ahead, but it’s not gonna get you anywhere with Rich Kid.”

“Why do you always do that?” I sigh. “I’m thinking about him because he just came back out of nowhere. I thought he was dead, remember? Am I not allowed to wonder what happened to him?”

“I do remember. I also remember you crying your eyes out over it. Saying how you wished you could have told him how you felt.”

I rub my hands over my face. “Alan, don’t.”

“Are you going to tell him?” Alan’s voice wavers. “Well, Ricky?”

“No.” Quickly, I add, “I don’t like him like that anymore.”

The car pulls into the Smart Aid parking lot. Still, Alan hasn’t said anything. I unbuckle my seatbelt and look at him, wondering if we’re skipping the usual goodbye kiss. Looks like it.

But I also know he’s testing me. He plays games like these sometimes. I lean forward and kiss his cheek. “Bye.”

He smiles. I’ve passed the test. Our relationship is saved, at least for today.

“I’ll pick you up at nine then,” he says.

***

Someone knocks on the door at ten in the morning on a Saturday. I’m up and dressed, even though it’s my day off. I’ve gotten into the habit of waking up early, even when I don’t have to and, though I know it’s screwing with my cool punk image, it’s kind of nice not being sleepy all the time.

I assume it’s Alan at the door. He’s not a morning person, at all, but he’s the only person who ever visits. If he’s here, it’s because he knows my mom is at work. I open the door, saying, “No handcuffs today. I still have brui-” My mouth snaps shut.

It’s Jacob.

“H-Handcuffs?” He flushes.

I feel myself turning red too. “I, uh, thought you were Alan.”

“Oh. Right.” Awkwardly, he gestures to a plate in his hands. It’s not ours. The smell of chocolate drifts from beneath the foil. “I brought your plate back. And I helped my dad make some brownies for you and your mom.”

“Helped?” I laugh.

“I did,” he insists.

“My mom’s at work, but…” I tilt my head in the direction of the living room. He steps inside.

As I shut the door, I notice him looking around the house. It’s much, much smaller than his and messier too. I wonder if he’s judging it, whether he’s thinking _oh, so_ this _is how people like him live_.

He stops in front of a photo of me and my mom. The glass on the frame is cracked. “How old are you here?” he asks.

“Uh, five? Maybe six.”

“You were so cute.”

I swallow. “ _Were_?”

He gives me a look. Avoiding eye contact, I lead him into the kitchen and tell him to set the plate down on the table. There are dirty dishes in the sink and I want to smack myself for not listening when my mom told me to do them.

Again, we’ve lapsed into silence. It’s been so long, neither of us know where to stand with each other.

“I… should go…” Jacob points to the door. It’s almost a question.

“You don’t have to,” I say and immediately want to take it back. If Alan finds out I was alone with Jacob, he’ll be upset.

“Aren’t you expecting Alan?”

“No.”

Jacob says, “ohh” to fill the silence that’s about to wash over us again. This is a weird atmosphere. I’m not sure what’s going on.

“Are you going back to school?” I ask, suddenly remembering the hallways without him. It was hard, at first, keeping up in school without him, especially with my lack of motivation after I found out he was missing. But sometimes all it takes is looking at yourself in the mirror after three days of skipping school, showers, and meals to figure out you can’t stay where you are. I saw the bags under my eyes and my mom’s worry lines and I knew, Jacob or no, I had to change something.

“Um, yeah. Eventually. I’m really behind. I might have to repeat,” he answers.

“You’re not that far behind. Only like two months.” I smile when he lets out a stressed sigh. “Come on, Special Ed. You’re smart.”

He snorts, suddenly looking tired.

I wonder again about his new scars. “Wanna borrow my notes? Well, they’re not mine. Alan’s notes. They’re from last year.”

“He’ll… be okay with that?”

My heart pounds. Did he find my letter? Does he know the real reason Alan doesn’t like him? “Why wouldn’t he be?”

“He’s never really liked me…”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “It’s not like that,” I say, though it is. “He’s just not a friendly person.” He makes a face like he doesn’t believe me. I wrap an arm around his shoulders, trying to be casual about it, and lead him in the direction of my room. “It’s fine, Jacob. Just take them. Alan won’t even notice.”

He glances at my arm around his shoulders and nods. I’m forced to let go of him to open my bedroom door. My room is messy, opened chip bags on the ground right beside the trashcan, dirty laundry almost overflowing in the basket, my bed unmade. It doesn’t bother me, usually, not even when Alan is over, but having Jacob here is really making me wish I cleaned my room more often.

“Let me just… find them,” I say and drop to find my backpack from underneath my bed.

“So,” Jacob starts. “Alan helps you with your classes then?”

I remember how Jacob used to help me when I needed it and my brain screams _he’s jealous_ , but of course he’s not. “Yeah,” I say, pulling out my backpack. “He’s pretty smart, I guess. Smarter than me, at least.”

Jacob says nothing. I look at him and he’s examining some of the band posters I have hung up on my wall. I unzip my backpack, but I can’t look away from him to search for the notes. It hits me again that he’s alive. He’s standing here, in my room, like he never has before, and he’s breathing. I spent so long wondering and then convincing myself he was probably gone.

“Jacob,” I say. “This might sound weird, but… Did you ever think about me? While you were gone?”

Jacob frowns. “Uh… I dreamt of you.”

My heart does an annoying dance in response to that. “What did you dream?”

“It was just a stupid dream.” He scratches the back of his neck, frowning deeper at the memory of whatever this dream was.

“C’mon, Jacob. Just tell me. Was it embarrassing?”

He sighs and doesn’t look at me. “I was at my funeral. You were there.”

Well, that’s dark. “That’s all? I was just there?”

“You asked for my bike.” He seems to regret it the moment he says it, his eyes widening and cheeks flushing. He turns his back on me.

Oh. Right. This is what he thinks of me. I almost forgot.

A moment passes and then Jacob says, “Uh, Ricky?”

“Yeah?”

“You, um, okay?”

“Me? Yeah, I’m great. Just crumbs or some shit in my eye.” I concentrate on finding the notes. A moment passes and I waver, glancing up at him and back down at my backpack. The sting of his words is starting to turn into something else, something that makes me want to kick my wall in. “You know,” I say. “People kept asking me what happened to you. If you were dead.”

He doesn’t answer.

“I punched Joey Brown in the face for asking me when your funeral would be. Got suspended for three days.”

He still says nothing.

I hunch over, trying to hide my face. “There were so many things-” My voice breaks. A tear escapes my eye and then it’s like a dam exploding. I try to control my voice enough to continue speaking. I’m already fucking crying - I might as well say this thing, this embarrassing thing I couldn’t stop thinking about the entire time he was gone. “There were so many things I wished I said to you. Like, why was I never good enough to be a real friend? Why the fuck do you think of me like I’m some nobody, some stupid punk kid from a bad neighborhood who only wants your money?”

“I’m… sor-”

“Shut up! When have I _ever_ asked you for money? For _anything_ ? Fuck you, Jacob. I _wanted_ to be a real friend to you. I tried! But you, you just think you’re so much better than me. You’ve never paid any attention to me!” I shrink. Fuck. That last part makes it sound too much like I’m in love with him. I need to control myself.

“It was just a dream,” Jacob says.

“It’s not just the dream.” I grab a sweater from the floor to dry my face with. I’m far past caring what he thinks about my room or my tears. “It’s how fast you decided we weren’t friends anymore after our fight. It’s how you correct me when I say something stupid. I… I know I’m stupid. But you don’t have to rub it in my face.”

“You’re not stupid…” he says quietly, but he doesn’t mean it. I know he doesn’t mean it.

I shake my head. “I am. I keep trying to be friends with you.” I pull out Alan’s notes, stand, and throw them at Jacob. He catches them, just barely. “Go.”

“Ricky…” He gives me a guilty look. “I didn’t mean…”

“Go, Jacob. I don’t want to talk to you anymore today.” I find my cigarettes in my bedside drawer, sit down, and light one to show him just how done with him I am.

He watches me, hesitant. I ignore him until he turns and leaves, Alan’s notes dangling from his hand.

Afterwards, I lay down in my bed, cigarette still in hand, and I let myself cry for a little while. I let myself acknowledge I was getting my hopes up when I should have known better. Then, I call Alan and tell him I want to see him.

***

A few days after the incident with Jacob, Alan and I run into him outside Smart Aid. Alan has been more affectionate than normal, so instead of our usual goodbye peck on the lips, he pulls me in for a full-on smooch, running his hand down my chest.

When I pull back, I catch sight of Jacob outside the car. He’s watching with wide eyes, surprise written all over his face. I stare back. Alan turns to see what has my attention.

Jacob’s mom calls from her car and Jacob flinches, breaking eye contact with me and jogging to catch up. My heart beat has inevitably gotten faster and Alan, who still has his hand on my chest, looks down at where he’s touching me and narrows his eyes.

I shove his hand away.

His jaw clenches. I wait for the explosion, but he just turns his head and says, “See you after work.”

I get the feeling something bad, really bad, just happened between us. I get out of the car and, almost before I can close the door, Alan pulls out of the parking spot and drives, screeching, into the street.

Yeah. That was not good.

***

Saturday at ten, I open the front door to Jacob, looking determined and shaky. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“All right.”

“I didn’t mean to be such a jerk.”

“You never do,” I reply, but I’m already forgiving him.

“I only…” He sighs. “I was really insecure… before. I don’t think you’re stupid. It’s not that you’re… less well off than me.”

I snort.

“Ricky, c’mon.”

I shrug. “Continue.”

“It’s just that you're… so much more… you, I guess. I was such a weakling and you… Anyway, it was probably just jealousy. I thought me being smarter was the only thing I had over you, so sometimes I just…”

“Don’t pretend money has nothing to do with this, Jacob. I still remember what you said about my mom.”

Jacob winces. “I was going through stuff.”

He was. I knew that. He was grieving and pushing people away, but it was still such a low blow. Insulting both my mom and our poverty at the same time.

“But I’m sorry,” he says.

I lean my head against the doorway. “I’m sorry too. For that shit I said about you needing a shrink. It was shitty.”

“It was.” He smiles.

I cough. “Come in then,” I say and he does.

He sits down on the couch and I bring him a can of coke. As he opens it and takes a sip, I remember that summer day we spent in his pool, that day I realized what I wanted from him. The feeling is starting to well up inside me again, that stupid wish of being _more_ than this with Jacob. Whatever _this_ is.

“How’s your girl?” I ask.

He frowns. “She’s fine. But she’s not my girl… anymore.”

Oh? That’s not what I expected to hear. “What happened? You were going slow, weren’t you?”

He shrugs. “We went so slow we stopped.”

I wait for more.

“Being back here… The difference is overwhelming. Things just kept piling on, all the differences between our worlds, and she said she needed a break for a while, to see how she felt about me once she adjusted.”

I only half understand what he’s saying, but I nod. “So, you're gonna get back together eventually?” I almost can’t hide my disappointment.

He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Because it didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. I wonder why. After all we’ve been through together, I thought I would always need her and yet… I don’t.”

I smile at him.

He makes a face. “Why are you smiling while I talk about a breakup?”

Oops. I try to change my expression. “It’s just… I don’t know, man. It’s nice hearing you talk about personal shit like this. You weren’t exactly the most open person back in the day.”

He looks away. “Neither were you.”

I don’t say anything because he’s right.

“How’s Alan?”

“Alan? He’s great,” I say. “Yeah, we’re great.”

Jacob raises an eyebrow at my repeat of the word “great”.

“It’s been better,” I admit.

He nods like he understands. After a minute of quietly sipping our coke, he says, “I’ve thought about what you said. Uh, about being real friends.” He looks me in the eye. I down the rest of my soda. “If I tell you something, will you please just believe me? It’s gonna sound crazy, but I need you to trust me.”

“Why wouldn’t I believe you?”

“You didn’t when I told you about that monster who killed my grandpa.”

The subject and the seriousness of his voice makes me put down my can of coke and turn to look at him directly. Of course I didn’t believe that. He was unstable, he’d just seen his grandfather die right in front of him. Besides, _monsters_ aren’t real. They can’t be. But I remember the sound of my gun going off and the shift in the bushes and my stomach turns. There was just so much going on - I don’t know what I was seeing.

“How could I believe that, Jacob? You were talking about monsters and it was freaking me out.”

“Because I sounded crazy? Or because you thought I could be right?”

I don’t say anything.

“You were there,” he says.

“Yeah, but… _monsters_?”

Jacob sighs. “Never mind.” He goes to stand, but I grab his arm and pull him back down.

I look at his new scars, the new steadiness in his eyes. He was gone for so long - that was no hallucination- and he had to be somewhere. I want to know. I want to know all of it. “I’ll believe you. Just… if it involves monsters, I might need a minute.”

Jacob reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small stack of pictures. “I’m going to tell you then, but don’t try to send me off to a mental asylum or something.”

“Promise,” I agree.

He smiles again. Then, he takes a deep breath and starts his story.

After he’s done, I walk into the kitchen, pace around the room, walk back into the living room, and stand by myself in the corner. It’s an insane story, that’s for fucking sure. Everything in me is screaming that Jacob’s still sick, but I saw the pictures. True, they could have been manipulated, but he showed me more recent pictures of Emma too and some of the letters they exchanged after they came back to… the present. It all looks overwhelmingly real. Besides, I promised I would believe him.

I walk back to the couch and sit down. “So,” I start. Jacob flinches. I pause, then say, “ _Dude_ , you dated your grandpa’s ex?”

Jacob blinks. Then, he bends over and starts laughing - loudly and uncontrollably.

“How old is she, really? Like eighty?” I tease.

He laughs harder, tears squeezing past his shut eyes. I listen with a self-satisfied smirk as he falls over on his side, holding his stomach. “She-She has the mind of a sixteen-year-old,” he says from between his laughter.

“Uh huh. So you say.”

“S-Stop. I’m serious.”

“I know. I believe you.”

Jacob stops laughing. He smiles at me from where he lays along the couch. His shirt has ridden up, just a little, and his cheeks are flushed from laughing, and he’s right there. Right here.

I lean over him. His smile falls. My hand goes to his hair and I pretend I’m brushing a strand away from his face, touching my fingers to his cheek. He’s warm. So warm.

A knock echoes through the room and we both jump. I pull back. He sits up. For a moment, I’m so out of it I don’t realize someone’s knocking on the front door. My heart jumps into my throat.

There’s only one person that could be.

I stand to go answer and see Jacob fixing his hair, which looks bad. It really does. And I was just… What was I doing, even? Was I going to kiss him? I don’t know.

I open the door. Alan smirks at me, holding a plastic bag with two bottles inside, and says, “Hey, lover.” He kisses me on the cheek and slips inside without waiting for me to invite him in. “I brought you some cheap alcohol.”

“Alan,” I start. “The thing is, Jacob’s…”

Alan freezes, noticing Jacob on the couch. Jacob forces a smile and lifts his hand in a wave. “Hi,” he says.

Alan turns to me in one quick move. “What the fuck?”

“He came over to talk,” I explain.

“Talk?” Alan looks meaningfully at Jacob, who still looks a little mussed from falling over laughing. “Sure fucking looks like it.”

“Uh, should I go?” Jacob asks.

“Fuck yes,” Alan says. I almost flinch at how sharp his voice comes out.

Jacob stands, says an awkward goodbye, and steps through the front door. I try not to watch him go.

“You cheated on me,” Alan says.

“I didn’t,” I reply.

“You wanted to.”

I swallow and I’ve waited too long to deny it. The truth shows on my face. Alan slams a fist against the wall. “You’re hopeless, Ricky.” He laughs. “I guess I am too.”

“Alan,” I begin, not knowing what to say. “It’s not… I don’t…”

“I wish you would stop fucking lying to me,” he says.

It hits me that all I’ve been doing is lying to him since Jacob got here. Maybe even before then. I remember telling him I liked him, promising I could love him, and I _do_ like him, but there’s some barrier I can’t get past between us, something that keeps us distant, even though he’s been my best friend for so long.

Alan leans against the couch, sighing into his quivering hand. My stomach churns with guilt. “Should we break up?” His face is blank. “I’ll never beat Rich Kid, will I?”

The answer is, so clearly, no. Because as guilty as I feel right now, if it meant Jacob would pick me, I would have kissed him earlier. I would have done it and I wouldn’t have regretted it. “I’m a piece of shit,” I answer.

“Yeah,” Alan agrees. “But I am too. I swooped in after Jacob disappeared because I knew you’d be easy. A heartbroken maiden looking for comfort.”

“Maiden,” I laugh. “Shut up.”

Alan doesn’t laugh.His eyes go to the couch, where Jacob was sitting. “I’m not some masochistic sucker, like someone else in this room.” He flashes me an easy smile. “So, I’m gonna dump you. I ain’t playing games with you anymore.”

“Friends…” I start.

“Like I said, I’m not a masochist, Ricky.” He straightens, pushing off the couch and giving me the bag in his hands. “Share it with Jacob. I’m going.” He kisses me on the cheek, his hand going to my hair for half a second, and then he walks past me without looking back.

And that’s it. Part of me wants to go after him, but not to tell him I’ve chosen him over Jacob, only to ask him to keep being my friend. So I let the front door shut closed without saying a word.

My chest aches, but it’s not heartbreak. It’s regret. Alan and I should never have dated, no matter how convenient it was at the time. We were better friends. At least then, I was honest with him.

***

The next day, Jacob answers the door.

“Hey,” I say, half surprised to see him instead of one of his parents. “Brought your plate back.” I wave it in front of him. “Also, my boss gave me these expired cookies.” I lift a plastic bag. “Want to risk eating them with me?”

Jacob grabs the bag and looks inside, taking out the plastic box of frosted sugar cookies and smiling. “My parents never let me eat these when I was a kid,” he admits.

“Missing out,” I say. “They’re heaven on dough.”

“Says the guy who likes ketchup on his scrambled eggs.”

“I stand by my likes.”

Jacob laughs and slips the cookies back into the bag. I follow him inside, closing the door behind me. He stops by the kitchen to drop off the plate and then we make our way upstairs towards his room. “How’d things go with Alan after I left?” he asks.

“Oh, uh, we broke up.”

Jacob stops halfway up the stairs, turning to me. “Because of me?”

I shake my head and shove him lightly forward. “It was a long time coming.”

Jacob keeps walking. My eyes drop downward as he moves and then he stops again and I look up before he can catch me staring. “He seemed, like, really mad when he saw me.”

“Jacob, seriously.”

He keeps walking. We make it to his room and he pushes open the door. I look around, noticing the letters from last time are gone now. Jacob sits at his desk and I throw myself onto his neat bed, like I used to, kicking off my shoes. He used to complain when I didn’t take them off.

“Hand me a cookie,” I say, thrusting my hand in his direction.

“You’re gonna get crumbs on my bed,” Jacob warns.

I roll onto my stomach, on the edge of the bed nearest him. “Bro.”

Jacob opens the plastic box and picks up a cookie. I wiggle my fingers. He grins and sticks the cookie in his mouth. “Crumbs,” he says.

“Jerk. I’ll eat with my head hanging off the side. Crumbs on your floor,” I reply.

He hesitates and sighs. “Fine.” I accept the cookie, gratefully.

We eat quietly for a moment and I’m glad it’s not awkward, like it was when he first got back. It’s comfortable silence. Almost like we really are good friends.

Someone knocks on the door and Jacob’s mom steps inside, holding a decorative box in her arms. Jacob greets her and she turns to me, saying, “Hello, Ricky.”

“Hi, Mrs. Portman,” I say, not moving from my spot on her son’s bed.

“I found what you asked for, Jake,” she says and Jacob stands to grab the box. “We haven’t touched any of them.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Jacob says. His mom nods and leaves the room, pausing only to glance once more in my direction.

Jacob sits back down, pulling the lid off the box.

“So,” I say. “When am I gonna meet Emma and Lady Peregrine and all them?”

“Miss Peregrine,” he corrects. “You want to meet them?”

I finish the cookie and lick my fingers. “Am I not allowed to? Your parents have, haven’t they?”

“Yeah…” He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “I guess you could meet them…”

I smile and close my eyes. I’ve had some time to think about what he told me and part of me still doesn’t fully believe him, but another part of me is excited to meet such fantastic people. Meeting them would be like finding another secret part of Jacob and, well, it would be a nice change. You would not believe how mind numbingly boring it is to work at Smart Aid. No wonder Jacob hated it. Still, I need the job.

I listen to Jacob shuffling through what sounds like paper, not opening my eyes. His bed is comfortable - it always has been. It’s so easy to fall asleep on.

The sound of something being torn makes my eyes snap open. I sit up. Jacob is bent over a letter, eyes scanning the words I know are in my handwriting. It won’t take long. It’s such a short letter.

He looks at me.

“I… I…” My throat closes.

“Hots for me?” Jacob flushes and presses his hand against his face.

“I wrote that months ago,” I say quickly. I can already sense things changing between us. I can already see him turning away. “I don’t, uh, have the hots for you anymore.” My face is hot.

Jacob’s still staring at me.

“I should go,” I say and start to get up. This is so embarrassing.

Jacob jumps to his feet and trips, landing half on the floor and half on me, pushing me roughly back down. “Ouch,” he says. “Sorry.”

I avoid eye contact as he lifts his head from near my chest. “Still clumsy,” I say.

Jacob lifts himself off of me and settles on the ground beside his bed. “Apparently.” He’s quiet for a second and I don’t move, even though I want to go home to hide in my bed and think about whether this embarrassment is too much to continue being friends with Jacob after. “You have a crush on me?” he says quietly.

“H-Had.”

“Had,” he corrects, his voice weird. I think he’s flustered. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

Jacob shrugs. “Well… I’m not, like, exactly…”

I thought his lack of self-confidence had pretty much disappeared after his trip through time, but it looks like some of it is still there. I pay enough attention to him to know it caused us a lot of problems in the past, that his insecurities really put a strain on our sort-of friendship. It’s true I’m taller than him and physically stronger, but I didn’t pay it any attention until I noticed he was. Then again, I’m hyper-conscious of how much smarter he is than me. Maybe it’s like that for him.

“Jacob,” I say. “You’ve always been attractive.”

He ducks his head, his cheeks red and, to my surprise, smiles. “Not like you are.”

I cover my face, feeling hot. “What is this, a competition on who can compliment the other person the most?”

He laughs.

“I am hot,” I say and he laughs louder. “But, like, in a sexy bad boy way.”

Jacob rolls his eyes, grinning. “All right. Are we complimenting ourselves now?”

“It’s true,” I insist. “You’re hot-” I swallow. “You’re hot in a softer way.”

Jacob snorts and leans against the bed. “Think your crush on me has blinded you.”

“There is no longer a crush!”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. I’m just making fun.” He buries his head in his bed covers. I think about running my fingers through his hair, like I did when he was at my house. We’ve never talked like this before. I wonder what this all means, if it means anything at all.

We’re quiet for a long time. Jacob doesn’t move. I close my eyes, feeling oddly relaxed after all those embarrassing things I just said. My mind drifts to Jacob against my couch, hair mussed and cheeks red. I imagine touching his hair, his face, running a finger along his bottom lip. In my dream, he says my name. He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles and it almost feels real. I can almost feel the pressure of his lips, the warmth of his breath.

Before I know it, I’m asleep.

When I wake up, Jacob’s not in the room. I find my phone, which fell out of my pocket while I slept, and see I’ve been asleep for almost an hour. Thankfully, I don’t have work today. I get out of bed, check my reflection in Jacob’s mirror, and fix my hair. I wonder if I dye it green again, now that I have the job, if they’ll fire me.

I step out into the hallway, looking around for Jacob or his parents. Finding no one, I make my way downstairs. Jacob’s parents are in the living room. A woman with dark hair and wearing dark clothes sits across them and she pauses in whatever she’s saying to look at me. It’s the bun on her head that makes me recognize her from the pictures Jacob showed me.

Miss Peregrine.

“Ricky, you’re still here?” Mr. Portman says. “We have guests - you should probably go home-”

“Jacob?” I say. I clear my throat. “Where’s Jacob?”

“On the porch,” Mrs. Portman says like she knows something I don’t. Her dislike of me is easier to see than her husband’s.

I nod at Miss Peregrine. She tips her head in response and smiles. Then, I get out of there. I pull open the front door, slipping outside and closing the door before I stop to look for Jacob.

He’s standing on the steps leading up to his house. There’s a blonde girl in his arms. She has her face pressed into his chest.

I realize I’ve been getting my hopes up again.

“Flirting out in the open,” I say, digging through my pocket for a cigarette. “Jacob, you’ve no shame.”

Jacob jumps back, letting go of who I know is Emma, and twisting around to look at me. I put an unlit cigarette between my lips. I don’t look at him. Instead, I nod at Emma, smiling. “Emma, yeah?”

She narrows her eyes. “Yes. And you are?”

“You never told her about me, Jacob? That’s cold.” I try to light my cigarette, but it takes a second. My hands are shaking. “Well, I’m off.” As I slip past them, Jacob catches my arm. I look at his hand, not him, and say, “What’s up, Romeo?”

“Uh, um.” Jacob doesn’t continue.

“No worries,” I say, still not looking at him. I lean forward and whisper,  “I’m not judging you for dating an eighty-year-old.” I glance at her and she’s watching us. “She really doesn’t look it.”

He doesn’t let go of my arm, but his grip loosens. I pull away, take a drag of my cigarette, and keep walking, waving at them without looking. When I’m far enough away, I start to dial Alan’s number and then remember he wants nothing to do with me anymore. Jacob’s the only friend I have now. It’s not really convenient at a time like this.

***

Jacob comes back to school. People crowd around him, asking where he’s been, telling him they thought he was a goner. I almost leave him alone. He’s standing there before classes start, having not made it very far past the entrance because of the crowd and I almost keep walking.

Before I do, he catches my eyes, and he’s pleading. I’m thrown back in time, when he would help me with my classes in exchange for my protection. Back then, I didn’t care about my classes. I only do now because after Jacob disappeared I promised I would get myself and my mom out of this god forsaken town. And I can’t do that without getting my life on track. But, back then, I pretended I cared about passing because I didn’t want to lose our friendship, as shallow as it was.

He’s asking for my help again.

I cut through the crowd, shoving people when they shove me, and grab Jacob’s arm. “Out of the way already,” I say to the crowd. “Don’t you have better things to do?” Jacob moves closer to me and I pull him through the crowd of people, further into the hallway.

Someone - sounds like Joey Brown - shouts, “Always knew you two were boyfriends!”

I ignore it. Jacob, though, flinches. “Don’t worry,” I say. “Joey talks shit so often, no one believes him anymore.”

“No, it’s…” Jacob starts.

I let go of his arm. “I’ll walk you to your first class,” I say.

He presses a hand against the spot I touched grabbed. “Thanks,” he says like he really means it. “It’s weird being back.”

A crowd gathers around him at lunchtime too and I have to tell some random guy to get out of my spot so I can sit across Jacob. I lean forward to shoo away some girl who’s bombarding Jacob with questions right by his ear. “Can all of you go?” I snap. “Trying to eat here.”

People curse at me, but they start to disperse and before long the crowd is gone. Jacob sighs. I pick up a questionable fry from my tray. “Told you people were asking about you,” I say.

“Everyone’s still kind of scared of you, huh?” he replies, finally digging into his homemade sandwich.

“I got into a few big fights while you were gone,” I admit.

A girl yells, “Jake, you’re alive!”

Jacob tosses an awkward smile in her general direction. I laugh at him, stealing one of his grapes from his lunchbox. Even before the words leave my mouth, they sting. “Be careful or Emma’s gonna misunderstand.”

Jacob frowns. I chew on the grape, dropping my eyes to my food. People keep talking around us, but in our small space it’s quiet. Again. And it’s not the comfortable silence we had in his room before. It’s the awkward kind.

“Ricky, about Emma,” Jacob starts and stops.

I play with the peas on my tray. “She’s prettier in real life.” My mouth twists into a painfully fake grin. “Good for you.”

Jacob shifts in his seat. “Do you have work today?”

“Yeah,” I say miserably.

“Do you get out late? Do you think you could come over after?”

I blink at him. “I’ll be out kinda late…”

“Is that a no?”

I sigh. “It’s not…”

Jacob smiles and pops a grape into his mouth. “Great.”

***

It’s dark by the time I make it by bus to Jacob’s house. I walk through his front yard, watching the sprinklers reflect the moonlight and that old feeling of being out-of-place hits me again. I don’t belong among all this money, in this huge yard or in this huge house. No matter how many times I tell myself to stop thinking like that, that life is a game of chance that put me and Jacob at different starting points and that he has done nothing more to deserve this than I have, sometimes it’s so easy to fall back on my old insecurities. Insecurities like, the reason Jacob and I could never be close is because there’s this huge pile of money between us. Like, boys like him don’t see boys like me as equals, no matter how hard I work at school or at my job, even if I looked as prim and proper as his parents wished I did.

I don’t realize I’ve stopped walking until Jacob opens the front door and steps out in pajama pants and a t-shirt to ask what the hell I’m doing. Instead of going to him, I say, “I’m watching the sprinklers.”

“Why?” He moves onto the porch steps, barefooted.

“You know, your parents hate me.”

He frowns.

“Bet they think I’m after your money,” I say. “Bet they think I’m heading down the same road my dad did.” I’ve never told Jacob my dad left or that he was always drunk or that he might be in jail or maybe he’s dead now, but everyone in this town has always known.

“Why are you thinking about this now?” Jacob says.

“My mom and I can’t afford to keep our grass green just because,” I say. “So, I was thinking about how different our lives are.” I sigh, tilting my head to look at the black sky. “Today, I helped keep those assholes away from you, like I used to and I’m just now thinking… How maybe we’re gonna turn back into what we were before.”

“We’re not,” Jacob says. He steps onto the gravel in his bare feet and speed-walks towards me. “We’re not.”

“I’m still the same,” I say. “This place is still the same.”

Jacob steps in front of me, shoving me lightly. I step back into the grass. “ _I’m_ not the same.”

“Are you sure? Not long ago you thought I was after your money too.”

Jacob winces. Then, without warning, he lunges forward. Instinctively, I take another step back. My foot catches wet grass and suddenly we’re _both_ falling. I land with a painful thud on back, grunting as Jacob falls on top of me. We’ve landed in direct line of a sprinkler and my back, where my jacket doesn’t cover, is already soaked, Jacob’s hair is dripping as the sprinkler sprays him in the face.

He closes his eyes against the water, ducking closer to me to avoid it.

I hold my breath, all of a sudden aware of his hand on my shoulder, his stomach against my waist, his legs tangled in mine.

He opens his eyes and now we’re both looking at each other. “I know you don’t want my money,” he says. “I’ve misread you, but I’m not doing that anymore.” He presses his fingers against my cheek and I don’t know what’s going on. His fingers travel down to my ear and then against the back of my neck, curling in my hair.

My breath comes out shaky.

Jacob leans down and his lips press lightly against mine. It’s hardly a kiss, but it heats my entire body and I grab his shoulders in surprise. He pulls back and watches my face. “Am I misreading you?” he asks, but it’s not a real question. There’s no doubt on his face.

I pull him back down in answer, my arms wrapping around his neck and shoulders. We kiss again and I think maybe I’m hallucinating because there are stars above him and the real Jacob, I’m sure, isn’t into me like this.

He shivers and I remember the sprinkler. “Get off,” I say. Jacob’s face falls. “I mean, you’re gonna get sick and my butt is soaked.”

“Oh.” Jacob crawls off and stumbles onto his feet. I take his hand, letting him pull me up. I brush grass off my wet jeans. Jacob’s clothes are dripping and heavy - he got the worst of the sprinklers.

I grab his hand. “Let’s go inside.”

Inside his room, Jacob and I change into drier clothes. His sweatpants are a little too small and they leave my ankles exposed, but his shirt is even worse. Jacob comes out of his bathroom dressed in a different set of pajama pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt, but I’m still standing there holding his shirt in my hands.

He laughs when he sees me, which is a good sign. It means he’s not comparing our bodies right now.

“Do you have anything bigger?” I ask.

“You’re too tall,” he replies. “Guess you’re gonna have to be shirtless until your clothes dry.”

I smirk. “Almost sounds like you’ll like that.”

Jacob turns red and he shrugs. His eyes travel down to my chest and stomach and I know I’m in good shape, but my confidence shakes a little with him looking at me so openly.

“What about Emma?” I blurt.

Jacob’s eyes go back to my face. “We were just officially saying goodbye. I’m not dating her again.”

“With a hug?” After I say it, I remember Alan kissing me on the cheek during our break-up. A hug isn’t so far-fetched.

“She’s still my friend,” he says.

“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

Jacob huffs. “I don’t know. I started doubting myself again, wondering if I was wrong about how you felt about me, thinking maybe you were being sincere when you cheered us on… I don’t know.”

“You think too much,” I say.

Jacob smiles sheepishly.

“So, then… Just to, you know, make sure we’re on the same page… You, uh… You’ve got the hots for me?”

He laughs and steps closer. “You could say that, yeah.”

“For real?”

With no time at all, he’s in front of me. He nods, biting his lip, as he presses his hand against my chest, right where my heart is. For a few moments, he feels how fast my heart is beating and he grins like he’s accomplished something. I slip my arm around his waist and pull him in for a kiss. His smile widens against my lips and then he kisses back, his hand going from my chest down to my stomach, fingers light and careful.

I shiver and it’s not from being cold.

“Stay over?” he whispers.

“Hell yes.”

He laughs at my quick answer, but I don’t have time to be embarrassed by it because he’s pulling me towards his too-comfortable bed, pausing again and again before we reach it to kiss me deeper each time.

It’s not until morning when I’m sure it wasn’t all a dream, when I wake up beside him. We’re tangled in each other, Jacob’s dark hair against my arm, his breath warm on my face. He’s taken more of the comforter while we slept and my back and feet are exposed.

I press my cold toes against his leg. He groans, smiling like he can’t help it, and mutters, “Stop it, Ricky, I’m sleeping.”

“I’m cold,” I complain.

“Mm,” he agrees, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me closer. He kisses my forehead sleepily. “Better?”

It is. I fix the comforter myself and close my eyes, leaning my head against Jacob’s chest as he squeezes me closer.

**Author's Note:**

> Cut to Jacob's mom walking in to tell him he's late for school.
> 
> Ricky's letter, in case anyone doesn't remember:  
> Truth is, I’m gay and I’ve sort of had the hots for you for awhile. Sorry if this is weird. Can you call me when you get this? I want to talk to you in person.
> 
> The DREAM:  
> "My uncle shuffles away. Ricky comes along, his green hair extra spiked for the occasion.  
> Bro. Now that you're dead, can I have your bike?"  
> -Ransom Riggs, Hollow City  
> (The good thing about fanfic is that I can have someone yell at Jacob for me)


End file.
